


Ooh, Shots, Gtgg

by Sanctuaria



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Banter, College Rock Climber Piper, CompSci Student Daisy Johnson, Drunk Texting, F/F, Fluff, For some reason???, Pipsy, Professor Melinda May, Shenanigans, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29586156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/pseuds/Sanctuaria
Summary: “No, no, no, no, no…” Daisy sprang out of her seat, immediately swaying woozily but regaining her balance enough to lunge for her bedroom door. “Piper? Piper, I need you to wake up.” She nearly tripped over a backpack lying in the middle of the floor for some reason but caught herself at the last minute by practically falling face-first into Piper on the bed, who let out a loud“OOF.”“Daisy,” Piper murmured. “Five more minutes…”“Piper, I think I drunk-texted Professor May.”
Relationships: Agent Piper/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Trevor Khan/Deke Shaw
Comments: 31
Kudos: 77
Collections: Femslash February





	Ooh, Shots, Gtgg

**Author's Note:**

  * For [que_mint_tea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/que_mint_tea/gifts), [daisylincs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisylincs/gifts), [MayBeBrilliant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayBeBrilliant/gifts).



> At long last, Drunk Texting AU sees the light of day! Special thanks to the unfortunate souls who will probably recognize themselves within these texts, and apologies for any psychic damage you may receive in reading this fic (but hey, you sent them). 
> 
> I had a lot of fun coding and photoshopping this one as you will soon see, but if you prefer to read the fic as plain text feel free to hit the 'Hide Creator's Style' button above; I made sure it's perfectly compatible either way. 
> 
> Cheers!

Friday, March 19, 2021  
1:29 PM

“Guys guys guys guys guys—” Daisy skidded into the room on socked feet, nearly bowling over Deke in her haste. “Guys, _I got it_.”

“Got what?” Piper asked from where she was sitting cross-legged on the dorm bed in a loose SHIELD Rock Gym tank top. The dampness of her short curls, wet from a recent shower, briefly gave Daisy pause as she was suddenly possessed with the desire to run her fingers through them but it was pushed to the back of her mind almost immediately by her current level of psyched. “An A in CompSci 198?”

“Concert tickets?” Deke guessed.

“The last case of Bendeery’s at Keg & Barrel,” Davis said.

Piper snapped her fingers. “Your dad finally gave in and got you a car for your birthday.”

Daisy made a face, momentarily put-out. “No. _No_.” But even their very-off guesses could not put a damper on her excitement; she was practically quaking with it. “ _I got Professor May’s number._ ”

Deke immediately recoiled. “Please tell me you were not trying to pick up Professor May; she’s like, _fifty_ —”

“Hey!” Piper protested. She paused, thinking about it. “Although, Daisy, if you ever _wanted_ to add a third to our relationship, I mean, May is h—”

“EW!” Daisy said, flapping her arms. “Stop. Piper. Don’t even go there. She’s old enough to be my mom, and not just from a teen pregnancy. Ew.” Her girlfriend just smirked at the expression on her face. “ _Anyways_ , I got her number since I’m gonna be TAing for her next quarter! I thought we would just be communicating through email and MapacheChat, but I guess she trusted me enough to give me her personal number in case of emergencies.” Daisy was back to grinning broadly at them.

“That’s much less exciting than concert tickets,” Deke complained, flopping back on the unoccupied dorm bed. “This excited over a professor’s phone number—you’re turning into Fitz and Simmons.”

“I am not,” Daisy huffed, kicking at his leg from where it hung over the side. “And get off my bed.”

“It’s not like you _use_ it,” Deke replied, rolling his eyes with a significant look over towards Piper. Daisy scowled, because he was right, but Piper’s bed was just more comfortable due to her mattress topper, okay? Plus it had, well, _Piper_.

“You pretend to be all bad-girl rebellious and shit, but you’re secretly just a teacher’s pet,” her girlfriend told her, shaking her head. “Oh god, I’m dating a teacher’s pet. My reputation is _ruined_.”

“You keep your leather jacket collection and your motorcycle, and I think your rep is intact no matter what I do,” Daisy said. “Also, you all suck. By the way.”

“Good,” Piper smiled at her. “Get out. Go be nerdy somewhere else; we’re still trying to plan your birthday party here.”

“Kicked out of my own room,” Daisy pouted. “Fine!” She closed the door behind her, hearing raucous laughter from within. Rolling her eyes at her friends’ antics, she plopped down on the couch again in the living room and pulled her laptop over, hitting the shift key several times to wake it. It opened to the same browser window she had left it on, a little chatbox in the corner comprising the university’s whack messaging system. Cornwell University, home of the mapaches—aka Spanish for raccoon, for some reason—and also MapacheChat, which made Daisy want to have a very serious discussion with whoever designed its UI.

**MapacheChat**  
**Today 1:29 PM**  
**Dr. Melinda May:** Meeting on the Monday before lecture starts to discuss the section material works for me as well. My mobile number is (217)616-1231 if you need to contact me about anything before then. Have a nice spring break.  


Daisy smiled to herself, then began to type her reply carefully, reading it over several times just in case it sounded weird. Professor May was by far her favorite of her CompSci professors, and the woman was brilliant, so she did _not_ want to fall on her face before her TAship with her even started.

**MapacheChat**  
**Today 1:29 PM**  
**Dr. Melinda May:** Meeting on the Monday before lecture starts to discuss the section material works for me as well. My mobile number is (217)616-1231 if you need to contact me about anything before then. Have a nice spring break.  
**Daisy Johnson:** [typing] _Thank you, I’ll see you then! Hope you have a nice spring break as well!_ |  


Dammit, smiley face or no smiley face? Two exclamation marks was one exclamation mark too many, especially for as serious a professor as May, whose no-nonsense attitude was well-reflected in her Rate My Professor reviews (though Daisy thought those unfairly reflected a bunch of pissy white boys angry that a tiny Asian lady had given them a B on their shoddy coding).

**MapacheChat**  
**Today 1:29 PM**  
**Dr. Melinda May:** Meeting on the Monday before lecture starts to discuss the section material works for me as well. My mobile number is (217)616-1231 if you need to contact me about anything before then. Have a nice spring break.  
**Daisy Johnson:** [typing] _Thank you, I’ll see you then! Hope you have a nice spring break as well :)_ |  


She hit enter before she could second-guess herself again, then pulled her phone out of her pocket to put May’s number in there. Maybe she should send her a text too? That’s what adults did, right, when they exchanged numbers? Then May would have hers too, in case she needed to contact her…

She added May’s number, creating a new contact for her, then shot her a short message.

**To:** **Melinda May**  
  
**Today** 1:43 PM  
**Daisy Johnson:** Hi Professor May, it’s Daisy Johnson! I just thought I’d send you a quick text so you’d have my number too.  


Just as she hit send, there was a loud banging at the door, the tinkle of glass bottles, and a loud yelp followed by some Scottish swearing. She dropped her phone on the couch cushion and sprang up to open it, only to be practically bowled over by Deke, who skirted around her to slam face-first into the door with both arms outstretched as if to hold it closed.

“Deke, what the—”

“A little extra, man, but good hustle,” Davis said from behind her. He grabbed one of her arms and Piper the other, and before she could so much as yank herself free she was being frog-marched back toward the bedroom they’d unceremoniously thrown her out of not ten minutes earlier.

“Are you even pulling?” Davis demanded at Piper as Daisy made a scrabble for the sofa, feet kicking ineffectually against the ground.

“ _I’m_ pulling; what about _you_ , noodle arms—”

“Just because I don’t rock climb—”

“Piper—wait, my laptop—my _phone_ —”

“Nope, they need to do party setup!” her girlfriend said with a grin, continuing to tug. “Don’t worry, the apartment will still be mostly intact when they’re done.”

“Mostly?” Daisy asked. “Wait— _they_?”

“They,” Piper confirmed as Davis, with one final heave, shoved them both through the doorway. She closed the door behind them, leaning back against it. “My job is to keep you occupied until they’re done.”

All thoughts of protest immediately drained from Daisy’s mind. “Occupied, huh?”

“Mm.” Piper’s fingers were somehow already hooked through the belt loops of Daisy’s black jeans, tugging her closer. “Any idea how I can do that?”

“I think you’ll figure it out,” Daisy breathed, settling her arms around Piper’s neck.

* * *

Saturday, March 20, 2021  
~~God **-** Fucking **-** Awful AM~~ 8:56 AM  
Eighteen Hours Later

“Urghhhh,” Daisy groaned, the sound decidedly less-than-human as it tore from her aggrieved throat. Inhuman, perhaps. Her eyes opened briefly, then shut tight again at the sudden deluge of light that made her acutely aware of just how hard her head was pounding. For a few minutes, she just lay there, unable to summon the willpower to move or even think, wishing upon everything holy that she could just fall back to sleep.

Or be dead.

Definitely dead.

The throbbing in her skull only increased, and she slowly became aware that her mouth tasted like a rat had died in it, her tongue rough and sandpapery against the roof of it. A rat soaked in…tequila?

Oh god.

“What did we _do_ last night?” Daisy mumbled at the warm lump pressed against her that she assumed was Piper. (God, if it was Deke, she might _actually_ have to throw up, though her hangover might get her there anyway—she did not need that kind of repeat of the 24-Hour Risk Tournament Incident of Fall Quarter) She cracked her eyes open again to find squinting was manageable, and gave a few prods to the lump as to ascertain identity.

“Tried to commit suicide,” the-lump-that-was-definitely-Piper groaned, burrowing further into the covers to try and block out the light. “Badly.”

“I’m never drinking again,” Daisy swore.

Her girlfriend opened one eye, immediately flinching though the deadpan remained as strong as ever. “Sure, Dais.”

“How do you manage to sound _that_ sarcastic while being _dead_?” Daisy whined into her pillow.

“It’s my superpower,” Piper replied. “But you might be right about that superpower. I think maybe I _am_ dead, and that random televangelist we accidentally watched on YouTube last week was right and I went to gay hell.”

Daisy’s lips twitched upward. “You mean—”

“Don’t say it!”

“—super megahell?” 

“I hate you,” Piper grumbled, flopping back on the bed. She shoved her hands at her haphazardly. “Get out of my bed.”

Daisy tried to roll her eyes to find the motion only increased the pounding in her skull. “You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fine, I’ll get up.”

“Good.”

“Only ‘cause I might puke.”

“Less good.” Piper shifted to peer at her. “Need me to hold your hair back?”

“No, it’s fine. Maybe I just need to be…upright.” With ginormous effort, Daisy slid her legs out from other the covers, letting her feet drop toward the floor. She inched toward the edge of the bed, head throbbing with every movement. She ended up bent over the edge at a nearly ninety-degree angle, then heaved herself upward to rise with all the awkward limbs of a badly-puppeteered marionette doll. She teetered for a second, but her legs held, and the pounding in her head lessened slightly. “Urghhh.” Her hand slapped the nightstand three times before her fingers managed to close around her phone. Clutching it, she stumbled toward the door and out of the room.

Outside, the apartment was in shambles, glasses piled on every kitchen surface—had they thought themselves too good for red Solo cups? no, right FitzSimmons had given them all that lecture about environmentalism and the Great Barrier Reef last week—and open handles of at least seven different alcohols on the kitchen table, halved and squeezed limes and shreds of mint leaves scattered around them. The scent of alcohol mixed with stale chips and someone’s leftover 2 AM mac and cheese lingered in the air, and Daisy had to pause for a second to press her hand against her mouth before continuing into the room. Trevor and Deke were sprawled together across the couch, Deke’s head on Trevor’s chest and Trevor snoring softly. Daisy sat down heavily at one of the chairs at the kitchen table and briefly considered taking a picture of them for posterity—it _was_ pretty cute, and photographic evidence of Deke drooling into his boyfriend’s shirt was always a good idea—but when she tapped her phone screen she was immediately distracted by the notification that popped up.

**MapacheChat, now:** _One new message_

She tapped on it on impulse before registering the sender, Smarmy Guy Grant in her CompSci 198 class who was always trying to get her into group projects with him, except this class didn’t _have_ group projects thank-Melinda-fucking-May, so it was just him asking what she got on the final.

Something higher than you, Daisy snorted, not even clicking on the unread message because she was not dealing with that right now.

But wait, what was…

Daisy frowned, staring at the chat conversation right below it, her hangover-addled brain taking an extra second to process what she was seeing.

**Daisy Johnson to Dr. Melinda May:** ooH shots gtgg

She dropped the phone with a loud clatter onto the tabletop. “What the FUCK.”

“Gnnnnngh,” Trevor groaned from the couch. “Daisy, _volume_.”

There was the smacking sound of someone opening and closing their mouth several times and finding the taste unpleasant. “Trev?”

“Shh, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Trev, I think I’m still drunk.”

“Mmh. Rating from one to the night I woke up and found you eating a raw potato at 2 AM.”

“Uh…six?”

“You’re fine,” his boyfriend mumbled, pressing a kiss to Deke’s hairline without even opening his eyes. “Go back to sleep and enjoy the non-hangover.”

Whatever was said next was lost on Daisy as her stomach made an uncomfortable flip-flop to accompany the rising horror in her chest. No. No, she couldn’t have…

This couldn’t be happening.

Her thumb hit the message, opening the full chat screen.

**MapacheChat**  
**Yesterday 8:01 PM**  
**Daisy Johnson:** Momnm?  
**Daisy Johnson:** I ams not that drukn i promiss  
**Daisy Johnson:** wait taht was dumbb i donthave a mom  
**Daisy Johnson:** well i DO havr a mmom evryonee has one  
**Daisy Johnson:** i just dont kniw who dhe is  
**Daisy Johnson:** you could be my mommn  
**Daisy Johnson:** ooH shots gtgg  


“No, no, no, no, no…” Daisy sprang out of her seat, immediately swaying woozily but regaining her balance enough to lunge for her bedroom door. “Piper? Piper, I need you to wake up.” She nearly tripped over a backpack lying in the middle of the floor for some reason but caught herself at the last minute by practically falling face-first into Piper on the bed, who let out a loud “ _OOF_.”

“Daisy,” Piper murmured. “Five more minutes…”

“Piper, I think I drunk-texted Professor May.”

“What?” Piper blinked at her blearily. She pushed herself up into some semblance of a sitting position, her short curls mussed and plastered close to her head. “ _What?_ ”

“Look at this!” Daisy demanded, thrusting the phone in her face. Piper squinted at the screen.

“Is this…MapacheChat? You got her number, right, why wouldn’t you just text her? That’s what you were all nerdy and happy about yesterday…I think…ugh, it’s all a blur.”

Daisy let out a huff of frustration. “Not that, the messages, Piper!”

“Johnson, you gotta hold it more still than that if you want me to _read_ ; it’s _tilting_ …or maybe that’s the room, never mind.” Piper screwed up her face, peering at the phone. “Oh. _Oh_. Oh my god.” Her lips twitched upwards right before she exploded into spluttered laughter, Daisy snatching the phone back in distress. “ _You drunk-messaged Dr. May!_ And you thought—you thought she was your—”

“I knowwwww,” Daisy whined. “I don’t know why drunk-me did any of this!!”

“I mean—” Piper stopped, clearly holding back more laughter. “I mean, it could have been worse.”

“ _How_ ,” Daisy demanded, faceplanting into the bedspread and burying her face in the comforter.

“Well, you are always saying how you want to try hacking MapacheChat but figuring out exactly how shitty the university’s code is isn’t worth the felony,” Piper said innocently. “Is deleting these messages before she sees them worth the—”

Daisy’s phone buzzed in her hand, and they both froze to stare at it. “Please be Jemma,” Daisy murmured. “Please be Jemma, even if it’s something totally TMI about what she and Fitz did after they left last night, please, please, _please_ —”

“You’re fine, it’s just a text,” Piper reported, craning her neck to view the screen at the awkward angle Daisy was holding it at while still trying to suffocate herself in cotton and synthetic microfibers. “Wait—WAIT—”

Daisy bolted upright, nearly knocking their heads together in her haste. She hit the notification with her thumb and brought the phone under her nose to stare uncomprehendingly at the gray bubble at the bottom of her messages app. From Melinda May. No, no, no, no…

**Melinda May, 9:30 AM:** Just wanted to check that you’re all right this morning.  


And right above it, a sea of blue…

Her finger jabbed at the screen, swiping and swiping and swiping upward. “Oh. Oh no.” Aghast, she looked up at her girlfriend, face painted with utter devastation. “Piper, it got worse.”

“No way.” Before she even knew what was happening, Piper had snatched the phone out of her hand, staring down at it without even bothering to hide the sheer and utter glee on her face. “Oh my _god_ , Daisy. Oh my—wait, we have to start at the beginning.” She scrolled a few more seconds with Daisy looking on numbly before letting out a cackle. “Here we are. 8:42 PM! ‘Okay I found it I think…’”

“Fuck no, you are NOT narrating these,” Daisy said, making a grab for a phone but just falling further onto the bed in a jumble of limbs. They both grappled for it for a good minute, forearm locked against forearm and Daisy’s slightly-too-long-nails-to-be-dating-a-lesbian up against Piper’s hot-rock-climber calluses. They arrived at a standstill, heads pressed together as they stared down at the phone.

**To:** **Melinda May**  
  
**Yesterday** 8:42 PM  
**Daisy Johnson:** Okay i found itithink  
**Daisy Johnson:** This is teh text thng  
_Daisy Johnson sent an image._ [Image ID: A blurry picture with the seam of black jeans visible. Half the camera is covered with her thumb.]  
**Daisy Johnson:** deear dr melinad may  
**Daisy Johnson:** I am noy very sormber and ijust wanted ti say ian sorry for truing totext tou like  
**Daisy Johnson:** A lot of timess  
**Daisy Johnson:** Soyes i am sorry  


Piper’s head knocked into hers with the force of repressed laughter. Daisy elbowed her hard in the ribs.

**Daisy Johnson:** Dont meb mad okay  
**Daisy Johnson:** im not thta drunnk  
**Daisy Johnson:** i cans till spleell  


“You _absolutely_ were that drunk, and you _cannot_ spell,” Piper snickered.

“This is your fault.”

“Is not.”

“Is too. You kept handing me shots!”

“I…” Piper squinted. “Honestly I don’t remember enough to tell you unequivocally that you’re wrong. But oh look, she replied!”

“She WHAT?!!”

**To:** **Melinda May**  
  
**Yesterday** 9:02 PM  
**Melinda May:** Good evening, Daisy. I see you’re having a fun time. Are you alone?  
**Daisy Johnson:** no im with pipper and dadvis and fizzz adn jemma and trevr  
**Melinda May:** That’s good  
**Daisy Johnson:** and meke  
**Daisy Johnson:** deke*  


“I’m showing this to Meke,” Piper cackled. “ _Meke_.”

“Shut up, _Pipper_ ,” Daisy growled.

“Davis is such a dad, though; drunk-you got that part right at least. You think this was before or after the King’s Cup game?”

“The…” Daisy searched the blank-and-otherwise-blurred space in her memory.

“You drank the bitch cup.”

She gagged a little. “I remember now. Bendeery’s and Deke’s Zima should _not_ be mixed.”

“Davis added hot sauce.”

“ _What_?!”

“And he owes me twenty bucks, since you did _not_ detect the sriracha,” Piper said smugly. She shifted, the phone clutched between their locked arms waving slightly. “Shall we?”

“You are the _worst_.”

**To:** **Melinda May**  
  
**Yesterday** 11:18 PM  
**Daisy Johnson:** Can i say a secret  
**Daisy Johnson:** pipers really prertty  
**Daisy Johnson:** adn dhe has a bike  
**Daisy Johnson:** it gooes vroom broom  
**Daisy Johnson:** i loave her k  
**Daisy Johnson:** Piper is fhe bestss  


“The worst, am I?” Piper crowed.

Face in a full-on pout now, Daisy disentangled herself from her just enough to drop her head onto the mattress again. “Well, this is embarrassing.”

“Oh is it now?” Her girlfriend was nearly beside herself with laughter, shaking the entire bed with it.

“Please tell me there’s no more.”

“Oh, there’s more,” Piper said, sounding like the cat that ate the canary. Or the…sandpiper that ate the crustacean, or whatever. “ _11:19 PM - I might mer-rarry her sum-day_.”

Daisy bolted right back upward, scrabbling for the phone. This time Piper was laughing too hard to keep hold of it. “I did not _say_ that!”

**Daisy Johnson:** imight mrarry her somdayy  
**Melinda May:** I’m happy for you. Drink some water, be safe, and make sure you get some sleep tonight.  


“Kill me. Piper, please, now—”

“No, don’t you want to know my answer to your oh-so-romantic proposal first?”

“It was NOT a—I hate you,” Daisy glared at her.

“I don’t come cheap, you know. Dowry of at least three goats. Maybe a cow.”

“What is this, the 1500s?”

Piper grinned. “If it was, you would not be having this problem, unless you drunk-wrote her via carrier pigeon. But hey, May’s happy for us, maybe we should invite _her_ to this wedding we’re apparently having—”

“At least it looks like I’m going to bed,” Daisy interrupted, looking back down at the phone. “I still have to reply to her— _fuck_ —”

**To:** **Melinda May**  
  
**Today** 2:09 AM  
**Daisy Johnson:** i think yourright i should sleepe  
**Daisy Johnson:** Wait yOu shold sleep  
**Daisy Johnson:** Go dream nice thigns  
**Daisy Johnson:** Slepe is veryimportanr  
**Daisy Johnson:** is good for yoi  
**Daisy Johnson:** adn your verry smart youneed to prtotect yur brain  
**Daisy Johnson:** and a vrygood proffessor  
**Daisy Johnson:** yuor vioice neieice  
**Daisy Johnson:** oter profsrs pit meb to sleep  
**Daisy Johnson:** btu i like listebing to yuo  
**Daisy Johnson:** alsos yourrname is splelled like a month and sometmmes i thikn about tht duringvlass  
**Daisy Johnson:** sorry  
**Daisy Johnson:** hEY  
**Daisy Johnson:** are you singlall  
**Daisy Johnson:** singlee   
**Daisy Johnson:** single   
**Daisy Johnson:** bcausee my dad is singlel  
**Daisy Johnson:** hes a nerd  
**Daisy Johnson:** a captian america nred  
**Daisy Johnson:** do u like captain amerca?  


“No.” Daisy threw the phone down on the bed. “No, no, I cannot do this anymore—PIPER IT’S NOT FUNNY.”

“To—totally not,” Piper choked out, her face turning red as she shook with laughter. “I can’t…breathe…”

“I’m going back to bed. Maybe this was all a nightmare…a tequila-induced nightmare…”

“You…” Piper gulped for air, finally taking a deep breath to forcibly calm herself, though she looked point-five seconds away from collapsing back into mirth at the slightest provocation. “…you still have to reply, Dais.”

“I’m never replying again,” she said, muffled by a mouthful of pillow. She wiggled, tugging on the fluffy gray blanket until she could yank it up and over her head. “I’m moving schools. Moving _countries_.”

“Good plan,” Piper said. “You gave her your dad’s number, by the way. Just so you know.”

“Mrrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhghghh,” she uttered, the last part ridiculously pitiful, if she did say so herself. 

There was a moment of silence, and then a poke somewhere in the vicinity of her ribs. “Daisy?”

“…Yeah?”

“I loave you too.”

* * *

Melinda set a cup of oolong tea on the table next to her laptop, open to the last of her seniors’ CompSci finals. Sunlight filtered in through the open window, lighting up half her keyboard in a straight diagonal and illuminating the dust on her screen. Before she could grab an e-cloth to wipe it away, the phone on the table next to her buzzed.

**Daisy Johnson, now:** _Oh my god I am so sorry_

Melinda’s lips twitched upwards. Always nice to see one of her students was not dead, much less a new TA. Well, wishing she was dead, perhaps. But she couldn’t let her off the hook too easily…

**To:** **Daisy Johnson**  
  
**Today** 9:49 AM  
**Daisy Johnson:** Oh my god I am so sorry  
**Melinda May:** Is this going to be every night/weekend?  
**Daisy Johnson:** No ma’am, definitely not  
**Daisy Johnson:** No, Dr. May*  
**Daisy Johnson:** It was my birthday  


Melinda smiled to herself, then picked up her phone to let the girl breathe a little. Andrew had always told her she enjoyed torturing her undergrads too much, and it certainly wasn’t very _Steve Rogers_ of her.

**Melinda May:** Happy birthday, Daisy. See you on Monday.  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and any and all feedback is appreciated <3
> 
> And because this is Marvel, have a post-credit scene ;) 
> 
> Daisy, one week later:
> 
> **Today** 10:44 PM  
>  **Daisy Johnson:** Just wantedto let yoi knww I amn drukn but I will nit be drnk texxtng you tonihht  
>  **Daisy Johnson:** Whoops  
> 


End file.
